


Ain't That a Kick in the Head

by howdyspacebuddy (eigengrau)



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Amnesia, Attempted Murder, Brain Damage, Breathplay, F/M, Femdom, Hate Sex, Light Dom/sub, Rough Sex, Unhealthy Relationships, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:01:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21708649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eigengrau/pseuds/howdyspacebuddy
Summary: Courier Six didn't really think through this whole "Seduce and Kill" plan. Now that she's finally alone with Benny, she's realizing that was probably a mistake.
Relationships: Benny/Courier
Kudos: 44





	Ain't That a Kick in the Head

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically just porn? I felt like this pairing was severely lacking in hatesex fic, so... yeah. Just kinda happened ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

It was pathetically easy for Courier Six to talk her way into Benny’s suite. Her flirting was clumsy, awkward, and yet despite his initial confusion, Benny had invited her right on up. The rest of his Chairmen bodyguards, with barely a shrug, had left to go keep an eye on the tables, and barely seemed to register the redhead with the crazy scar and the patched together Wasteland armor as a threat. She was almost disappointed. All this way across the desert, all the work she’d done to get into New Vegas and track the bastard down, her deal with Mr. House- and she just walked right in, propositioned him, and bingo was his name-o.

Benny glanced at her over his shoulder, taking a drag off his cigarette as he opened a bottle of Sunset Sarsparilla. “You thirsty, doll?”

She shook her head. “Straight to business, I like that.” He took a swig, put out his smoke, and spread his arms, gesturing to the bed. “Benny is gonna show you the Tops! I hope you’re built sturdy, you crazy broad.”

She frowned. The third person, really? “I’m not crazy.” As she said it, the ringing in her ears came back, her brain whining as if for attention. 

“I’d debate that. Most dames don’t walk halfway across the Mojave just to come on to the fella that left ‘em for dead."

“I guess it’s just a funny, mixed-up world, huh?” She rubbed her temple. “Maybe some things make sense when you change your perspective. Excessive head trauma will do that to you.”

He reached over and tapped a finger against the puckered scar at her hairline. She didn’t flinch. Against all odds, the scar wasn’t too bad- spidery silver lines crept down to just above her eyebrow, but the wound itself had been surprisingly neat. If she had anything at all to thank him for, it was using a small caliber bullet. “Brainpan all full of scrambled eggs, huh?”

Six grabbed his wrist, firmly moving his hand down. She caught him trying to hide a wince- her grip was a lot stronger than most people expected. “That’s not a very polite thing to say.”

Benny shrugged. “Hey, I said I was sorry.”

“You don’t mean that.”

He grinned. “Not really. But them’s the rules of engagement, honey, sometimes you’ve gotta talk real smooth to get what you need-”

She rolled her eyes. The smoke from Benny’s cigarette, smoldering in the ashtray, was making her head hurt. “Shut up.”

He shucked off his garish checked jacket and undid the top button of the shiny shirt underneath. It looked like it was made of the same material as the leopard print shift she’d picked up a ways back, the one that always seemed to make people’s eyes drop and lips loosen. She wondered how he’d gotten his hands on it, when the smooth, luxurious fabric seemed so rare. The benefits of his alliance with Mr. House, no doubt. “Considering you were all purr downstairs, you sure do hiss a lot now that we’re alone, pussycat.”

“Keep your pants on. I’ve got some questions that need answers.”

Shaking his head, Benny took a step towards her. “No way. Our mouths have got other things to do than talking.”

Okay. Six had figured she’d get up to his room by fluttering her eyelashes, but she hadn’t thought it out much further than that. The silenced .44 hidden in her armor, close enough for the metal to warm to her heartbeat, had been itching to come out down on the casino floor, but up here in the dim light, with Benny staring at her like a slice of radscorpion casserole, she weighed her options.

He was packing heat. His silvery piece glinted in his shoulder holster now that the coat was off, and for a second she was watching the orange light of flames reflected in, staring down the barrel as sweat trickled down the small of her back, rocks and graveyard dirt under her knees.

Pain lanced through her head as the memory came back to her. She blinked, and when she opened her eyes, there he was in front of her- the hotel room. The Tops. Vegas, not Goodsprings. He’d stepped even closer while she flashed away, close enough that she could smell the mint on his breath. “Cap for your thoughts, princess.”

She made a decision. Grabbing him by the lapels, she ripped. The buttons popped off his shirt - _silk_ , the word came back to her- and she yanked it off his shoulders, sending his gun and holster clattering to the floor with it.

“Heeey…” he dragged the word out in surprise, eyes widening. “Careful, that’s an antique.”

She pushed him backwards, and he fell onto his ass on the bed. Six undid the straps of her leather armor, shedding it. The utilitarian shirt and pants underneath were streaked with dirt and sweat, but he still eyed her lustily as she stripped down to them.

“Wouldn’t have guessed you were hiding those under there,” he said, gesturing to her chest.

“Thought I told you to shut up,” she said, and pulled the shirt over her head.

“Wow.” He sounded appreciative, and once her view was clear again, she could see the tent in his pants. “Nice.”

She thumped down on the bed, graceless and forceful, and used her weight to pin him against the headboard. He wasn’t bad-looking, she considered, one leg on either side of his waist, and it had been a while since she’d spent the afternoon with that blonde girl at Gomorrah, her first fuck that she could remember since being dragged out of the dirt in Goodsprings. His eyes fluttered shut for a second as she pushed her hips against him.

“Hey, I didn’t catch your name either.”

She grunted. “I know your name, idiot. I was seducing you.”

He took her breasts in his hands, rolling her nipples between thumb and index finger. She bit her lip. “Avoiding the question, okay. Just gonna stick with Pussycat, then.”

Whatever. It sounded stupid -she’d never even seen a damn cat as far as she knew- but it was easier than explaining she couldn’t even remember her own name. Lost in her scattered thoughts, his tongue flicking against her tit brought her back to Earth.

She looked down- his eyes were closed, mouth on her breast, laving her with attention. It would be so easy for her to reach for the knife concealed in her belt, slide it into his temple nice and smooth- give him a scar to match hers. Actually finish the favor, the job, like he couldn’t.

Felt nice, though.

He bucked up under her, his free hand fumbling at her pants, trying to slip under her waistband. She flicked the clasp and lifted herself, moving away from his mouth, shimmying out of the pants and pushing them to the foot of the bed.

“That’s more like it,” He muttered, and smoothed a hand up her thigh. His skin was soft, his fingernails manicured, and they scratched a teasing line up to the curve of her hip. He pressed his palm over her panties, giving her cunt a gentle squeeze. Six couldn’t help the moan that broke out of her. “Damn, already so wet.” He raised an eyebrow at her, smiled. “Tell me what you want?”

Hot anger flooded her. How dare he fucking smile? The bastard. Like he was in control, even with her on top of him. Even with her here, crawled back from the dead, a gun practically an extension of her hand. Like he could give her what she wanted.

She barely even realized as she was doing it, until she saw the fear in his eyes. Her hand was wrapped around his throat. “I told you,” she growled, teeth bared. “I want some fucking answers.”

Benny squirmed under her, and for a second she thought he was trying to get away- until she felt his still-hard cock push against her thigh. “I got some of those,” he choked out. “Might even share them, if you ask polite-like.”

She tightened her grip and, one-handed, slipped off her panties. Benny sighed, flushed red either from lust or lack of air. Maybe both.

“Come on,” he whined.

Six yanked his trousers down, fifty percent for convenience and fifty percent just wanting to get the hideous things out of her sight. Benny’s cock, as pink as his cheeks and leaking, sprang up against his belly.

She shook her head to try to clear it. _Focus_. Loosening her fingers around his neck, she glanced around the room. “Protection?”

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing under her palm. “You got a real way of making that sound not at all sexy,” he said, and coughed. “Nightstand.”

She yanked the top drawer open and looked inside. There wasn’t a rubber in sight.

“There’s nothing here.”

He craned his neck to look. “Well, darn. I guess I’m out. We’ll just have to be careful.”

“You’re a piece of shit, Benny.”

“And you’re not exactly a pretty talker.”

Whatever. It wasn’t like it mattered. Six shifted her hips to rub herself against his shaft. He grabbed her hand and brought it back up to his throat. She obliged.

It was good to be in control, she thought to herself, as she guided his cock into her.

He was bigger than she’d expected, and it filled her up as she sunk down to the hilt. They both groaned, and he clutched at her hips, pulling her closer. “Oh, fuck,” he gasped.

She braced her free hand against the headboard and began to move. He struggled to thrust into her, pinned under the sinewy muscle of her thighs, strong from hours of walking the Mojave. It wasn’t hard to ride him, up and down, and damn if it didn’t feel good to have something inside her. She let her eyes drift closed, just for a second-

“Nice charlies, too. Give ‘em a shake for the Ben-man, will ya?”

She flexed her fingers and glared down at him, annoyed. “Are you _trying_ to get me to strangle you?”

His eyes glinted. “Maybe.”

“It’s working.” She huffed. “Something about you just makes me downright homicidal.”

“Yeah, I tend to have that effect on women.”

“Have you considered your personality might be the problem?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Who’s saying it’s a problem?”

She opened her mouth, thoughts racing to try to find a comeback, when suddenly the room spun around her. For a moment she worried she was blacking out again- not now, _not now_ \- but then she was on her back, the air knocked out of her as she thumped against the mattress.

On top of her, Benny flashed a crooked grin, his coiffed hair falling over his forehead. _The fucker flipped me_ , she had time to think, surprised, before he thrust into her hard, and stars blasted in front of her eyes. She moaned, and he echoed it back as he set a fast pace, pumping into her roughly. Six bucked up to meet him.

“God, you feel good, baby,” he crooned. She dug her nails into his shoulders, panting. His cock throbbed inside her, stretching her out, and her cunt clenched around him. He slipped two fingers into her mouth, getting them wet, and leaned in.

She bit down.

“Ow!” He yanked his hand away and jerked back, scraping his knuckles on her teeth. “Jesus!”

“I hate you,” she gasped.

He examined the red indentations in his fingers, not deep enough to draw blood, but close, and frowned at her. “Hey, pussycat, you might be a miracle, but the feeling’s mutual.”

Seething, she writhed up and kissed him. He licked into her mouth, and thought she knew she didn’t taste minty fresh like he did, his tongue pressed against hers gladly.

They broke apart, and he drove into her even faster, pressing their foreheads together. “You’re a real dizzy bitch, you know that?” He asked, breathlessly. She clenched her jaw and shook as she came, toes curling as she pulled him close with her legs.

“I might’ve been a nice girl, once. Can’t remember.”

“Fuck,” he swore, sounding surprisingly genuine. “Sorry about that, baby.”

Then he grunted, pulled out, and shot his cum in streaks across her thigh.

He rolled over next to her and she stared down at it in mild distaste. “Lovely.”

Groggy, he threw an arm over her stomach and pressed his face against the pillow. “You’re a real ring-a-ding broad.” He yawned. “Like I said, just being careful.”

She reached down, dug through her discarded armor on the floor, and grabbed the hidden .44.“Not careful enough,” she said, turning to point the pistol to his head-

Benny let out a snore. She stared down at him in shock, his face smooshed against the pillow, totally naked, completely vulnerable… totally asleep.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

She shoved his shoulder, but he was out like a light. Six couldn’t believe what an idiot he was. It was one thing to go for a fuck, but to pass out? It was like taking candy from a baby.

Call it a fucked-up sense of honor, or call it pride, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Not like this. She lowered the gun and fell back against the pillow. Her own eyes felt heavy, and the ringing in her ears was back. This time, when the room started to spin, she knew it was her torn-up brain shutting down on her.

She let it happen. Somehow, she knew Benny wouldn’t try anything, even if he did wake up first. Maybe he was just that dumb. Maybe it was something else.

She didn’t let herself interrogate that thought before she passed out.


End file.
